Home
by Ben is Glory
Summary: It's good to be home. Post-NFA. Written for the Spuffy ficathon.


TITLE: Home

AUTHOR: Ben is Glory

RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: It's all Joss. I just… fix it. ;)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my fic written for the Spuffy ficathon over at livejournal. I was supposed to write a 'Post-NFA, angsty, Shanshu appearing, no character/ship bashing, non-cookies/cookie dough mentioning, possible Angel or Nina appearing fic' for doylesb4. This is how it came out, with awesome beta-ing by Annie and bloodshedbaby. Thank you!

FEEDBACK: I made it through my first ficathon alive, let me know how I did!

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Buffy wasn't surprised when she opened the door and found Spike standing on the other side. She always knew he'd find her. Just like she knew she would always be waiting for him, like Willow would always be waiting for Oz.

Before saying anything, she just stood and drank in the delicious sight of him. Nothing really had changed. But then again, Spike wasn't actually one to ever change. The clothes were the same: the requisite black tee, jeans, and duster still intact. But there were scars, new ones, which marred his face that she didn't remember. It didn't matter though; he was still her Spike.

He just stared back at her, lost in a daze of wonder and amazement. He never knew seeing her could bring back so many intense feelings: joy, pride, lust. But then again, Buffy always brought out some sort of reaction in him. Always had, right from the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. He tilted his head to the side and studied her carefully, re-acquainting himself with every curve, every plane, every dip of her body. She looked stunning in her simple flowery dress, blonde hair flowing down her back. There was something different about her though, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. She seemed calmer, serene even, and definitely more at peace then he'd ever seen her. Everything he had missed having in his life the past year. It was good to be home.

The silence stretched on, both just savoring the sight of each other. Almost afraid that if they did break the silence, they would discover it was all just a mirage and not a beautiful moment in time. Spike finally broke the stillness. "Long time, no see."

As if on cue, Buffy cocked back her fist and punched him in the jaw, releasing even more memories they were both all too familiar with.

"Guess some things never change, eh?" He moved a hand to his mouth to wipe off the trickle of blood forming at his lip.

Raising her eyebrows at his denseness, she told him, "That's for not telling me you were back."

A small smile played on his face. "So, you heard about that, then?"

"Right after you left? Yeah. Andrew squealed," she explained. "Told me that you guys were here but not to worry. He _actually_ said, 'He'll be back,' in what I'm sure he thought was a convincing Terminator impression. Then he giggled for about five minutes. We're talking major annoy-age."

Chuckling, Spike agreed, "That sounds like the boy."

She looked down at the ground, her voice getting very small. "Why didn't you tell me you were alive?"

Spike felt his heart fall to pieces. She looked so sad and so lost, and he could feel the overwhelming regret creeping up now that he was getting a glimpse at her pain. His hand made its way to her chin, tipping it up so that she was looking him in the eyes. "Couldn't top my exit, pet. Then this bloody Circle of the Black Thorn rubbish got started. Figured if I survived another apocalypse, I'd look you up." He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully, and she couldn't help grinning. "So, love, can I come inside?" He knew he didn't need an invitation; Andrew had already given him that months before. But he was requesting more than just an invite into her apartment; he was asking for a symbol that she wanted him back in her life.

"Yeah, Spike, why don't you come in," she managed to say casually, moving aside to let him pass across the threshold. Buffy knew he could hear her heart pounding as he brushed past her, and their eyes locked, both regarding the other intently.

Taking a few slow steps into the room, Spike looked around while she shut the door. He remembered being here with Angel, on their wacky misadventure. When they had finally caught up with her, they found her at a club with _him_. Despite wanting to remain calm, he couldn't keep the anger from welling up. "Are you still with that ponce, the Immortal?" he asked bitterly, unable to stop himself.

Buffy was taken aback by the abrupt change in his attitude, and wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn't come. Eventually she just sighed wearily, and said, "Uh, not so much. I broke up with him after Andrew told me you'd been here." She paused for a second and then teased, "Well, actually then I found out that you and Angel _know_ him, so I knew I had to end things fast." She smiled her bright, infectious smile, and he had to join her.

"A crazy lot, we are." He took a seat on her couch when she motioned for him to sit down. Looking around again, he added, "Where's the Nibblet?" It had been just as long since he had seen Dawn, and their fractured relationship had never been properly mended, which weighed on Spike's heart.

Buffy plopped down next to him and answered, "Oh, Dawn's in England visiting Giles. She was really excited, but it gets kinda lonely around here with her gone."

"Become a regular bookworm, has she?" he said with an air of amusement. His 'Bit always was one for learning, even when she was doing her best to be the little delinquent.

Buffy nodded. "I think Giles is going to take her to look at colleges over there, too. Oxford even." She tried to keep the twinge of jealousy out of her voice. Buffy loved her sister, but sometimes couldn't help dreaming about the normal life that she never got. It would be nice to be able to go to college for once in her life without some disaster striking or everything getting blown to hell. Literally.

Just like old times, Spike was intuitive to Buffy's silence and cautiously wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You know, love, you could go back to school. You're not the only one, anymore."

Willing away the few tears that had sprung to her eyes, she insisted, "Nah. I'm over it. Really."

Realizing how uncomfortable the situation was getting, Spike pulled back and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Peaches has a girlfriend."

Buffy whipped her head around and let out a little laugh. "So I've heard." At Spike's confused look, she clarified, "He called me. After the battle. Which you still have to tell me about."

"It isn't serious," he told her with concern.

"The battle?"

"No, the Poofter and Wolf-girl. It won't last, in case you wanted to…" he trailed off, not wanting to finish the idea that she might go back to her first love and leave him out in the dust.

She jokingly shoved him, serving to ease his fears. "The only person I'm interested in is sitting right here on the couch with me."

"He lost it," Spike murmured. "I mean, he… uh, gave it up."

Buffy shook her head in confusion. "Huh? Gave what up?"

"The shanshu."

"What-shu?"

"Shanshu," he repeated a little louder. "The prophecy that said he'd become a real boy one day." Spike looked deep into her eyes, ice-blue dancing with pale green.

She took a shaky breath as the implications of what he said hit her. "Wow. That's… wow." Everything blurred in her head. She knew Angel wanted to fulfill that prophecy more than anything. He had told her that once. It was his second chance. Now, he was left with nothing but time. "What does that mean?"

"Don't know, pet. Maybe now instead of being first runner up, I finally get to be Miss America." He sputtered for a second before correcting quickly, "Um… well, I mean... Bugger."

Buffy let out an indelicate snort, and Spike shot her an offended look. His resolve started slipping, though, and he gently pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"But really, Spike, what happened at Wolfram and Hart? Angel wouldn't tell me anything. Just kinda seems like things are pretty tense right now."

"Not a lot to say, love. Big fight, we came out on top." His lips curled up in his trademark smirk, and Buffy realized just how much she had missed it. Missed him. God, she'd missed him. With a nonchalant shrug, Spike continued, "You've seen plenty; you know how it goes."

She rolled her eyes, not settling for any of his macho vampire 'I've-seen-this-a-million-times' crap. "Oh, come on, Spike. I know it's bad. I can tell just by looking at you."

"Well, we _did_ have Blue Thunder on our side."

Buffy cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Blue Thunder? Huh?"

"Bird named Illyria," he explained. "Lot's happened in the last bloody year."

"Yeah." She lowered her head. "Angel told me about Cordelia and Wes."

"And Fred. She was the only one I could bloody stand there. Only one to treat me like a man, like I was worth something." His voice became raspy as he confided, "She was the only one to believe in me. Just like you did."

A delicate hand found its way to cup his cheek for a brief moment. "I missed you," Buffy whispered, barely audible. "It's been a lonely year."

"What about all your mates? Scooby power and all that rot. Just because they're away doesn't mean…"

"Oh, it means," she admitted sadly. It seemed like months since she had really talked with her two best friends. Xander was still grieving over his lost love, a pain which Buffy no longer had to share with him. Willow was always busy with Kennedy and had little time for much else. Whenever the trio did speak, it was never for very long and always about safe subjects -- all three afraid to yank any old but not-so-forgotten skeletons out of the closet. Buffy was scared down to the bones that she accidentally left her friends back in Sunnydale; that their friendship had not survived the Hellmouth.

"Sod 'em, then."

Her jaw dropped, and she looked at him in disbelief. "What? Spike!"

"I'm serious, love. If they don't appreciate the time they have with you…" He let his sentence drift off and gave her a half grin.

She turned her head away and smiled shyly. It was nice to feel this. This moment, this way. Ever since that day on the Hellmouth, life had felt different. But now, it was almost as if the comfortable part of her life had returned. Everything had changed so much, but here was the one constant she could always count on. Spike had always been her constant. He even told her once that he loved all of her: every quirk, every fear, every accomplishment, and every failure. But, in the back of her mind, she never let herself believe him. For the first time, Buffy could feel the walls crumbling, and she was finally ready to let him in. She just hadn't realized he'd been there all along.

"Things've changed, Buffy. The world's changed."

She sighed heavily. "Yeah, I know."

"But you're still one hell of a woman."

This was right. _They_ were right. And when Buffy looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, she knew.

"On our last day..., or what we thought was the last day," he amended, "Angel told us to go out and live like it was."

"Oh yeah? And what did you do? Get into a drunken fight? 'Cause that wouldn't surprise me," she joked.

Spike pulled back and narrowed his eyes. "I'll have you know I did something that was bleedin' terrifying."

"Bull."

"Fine then!" he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rolling her eyes, she surrendered flatly, "Fine. What did you do?"

"Ibloodyreadpoetry," came the mumbled response. At her pissed look, he tried again, "I read poetry."

She tried to mask her giggles but failed miserably. Realizing he was serious, she sobered up. Crawling up his body so she could whisper in his ear, Buffy told him in a low, husky voice, "Y'know, some girls think poets are sexy."

Leaning away to catch her eye, his face was a mix of mystification and amusement. "That so, love?"

She nodded, her expression intent and deadly serious, causing him to emit a quiet growl. He moved his lips close to hers and recited against her mouth, "My heart expands; 'tis grown a bulge in it…"

Oh, yes. It was good to be home.


End file.
